


Sensory Overload

by ThatScottishShipper



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Gavin Reed, Don’t post to another site, Festivals, Gavin hates everyone and everything except his cats, Gen, Music, Panic Attacks, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Sensory Overload, Social Anxiety, Spoilers, Swearing, Teasing, crowds, gavin being gavin, seriously lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 21:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20234887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/pseuds/ThatScottishShipper
Summary: Enraged at the crowds during Detroit’s busiest Festival, the Fridge, Gavin waits for the tram ride home.The Nines begins to act strangely...*Totally not inspired by a yearly festival in Scotland that sets off the author’s social anxiety, and sensory overload through the roof.*





	Sensory Overload

The Gavin _ hated _ the Fridge.

Slapped right at the end of Summer was Detroit’s busiest festival, celebrating performance shows of all sorts, from stand up comedy to cultural delights. A surge of visitors flocked to the city, which meant one thing one for the prickly Detective.

Every street, every corner, every public space, was bloated to bursting with too many people, too much noise, and too much _ everything _ for Detective Reed’s liking.

He huffed, tapping his foot impatiently. All he wanted was to go home already, not be jam packed between mouth pieces communicating by shouting around him.

“Hate you, hate you, hate you,” Gavin growled under his breath to the mass of people bumping him in an effort to get by and laughing too close to_ his fucking ear. _ “Don’t know you, but hate you…”

Since its introduction in the early 2030s in an effort to inject more revenue into the Detroit, the Fridge had only gotten a higher traffic of visitors each year, bringing much needed cash and popularity to the city, but increasing the difficulty of ‘pounding the streets’ on the job and even just getting home after a long day.

If Gavin missed just one more tram due to clogged up public transport, or got stuck standing the whole _ goddamn _ way home with screaming families, he knew he’d explode.

And the Detroit People Mover station was already crowded, with humans and Androids alike.

Mother _ fuckers _.

After the Revolution, Androids took part in the festivities of their own free will, rather than being ordered to by avarice human owners. With Deviants coming to support other Androids, regaling in the stupid performances he had no desire to watch, Detroit felt just that little bit tighter, every day without mercy.

And Gavin _ seethed _ every time August rolled around, narrowly avoiding inconsiderate show promoters and their gullible audience, thrusting enough leaflets in his face to secure his cat’s shit boxes for the rest of the year.

Jasmine and Bubbles were the only precious things keeping him _ sane _ during his least favourite month.

_ ‘Think of them, you’ll see them soon. Only things I care about in this dumpster fire of a city, and-‘ _

Screaming children shattered the barrier of quietness he tried to instill around himself, their negative behaviour engrained further by negligent parents too preoccupied with their phones or fantasies of some faraway magical world without mundane responsibilities.

Of course, inflicting poor overworked locals like Gavin Reed with their shitty ass shenanigans.

_ ‘Don’t care, don’t care, don’t fucking care, shut up, shut up-’ _

Too much _ fucking _ noise.

Whenever he felt a spike of hot red anger seize him, Gavin closed his eyes, counted to ten, and thought of little feline faces gazing up at him after a hard day, causing the fiery mist slowly evaporate.

How ironic, in retrospect, that Nines - the Android Partner he’d been forced to work with for several months - gave him that little mindfulness nugget from his database of self-help bullshittery.

_ ‘Because it appears you have anger issues, Detective Reed.’ _

No shit.

Speaking of his robo-Partner, the RK-900 stood by his side, waiting for the ride home, surrounded by_ too many people being too fucking loud. _

Gavin felt tempted to let out a bloodcurdling scream, just to get himself some space.

Not that Nines saw fit to relieve himself of his single minded obsession, to accompany Detective Reed to the station against Gavin’s stipulations. He remembered Captain Fowler demanding it after one public blowup too many.

To teach Gavin the merits of teamwork and to stop - in his words - being a _ ‘pissy little shit.’ _

Gavin still blamed Nines for stoking the flames of his temper that fateful morning, bringing him a black coffee that failed to meet his expectations.

He still recoiled from the bitter blackness. _ “Hey, tincan! Coffee’s like a cold shit! Heat it up!” _

With a hard stare, Nines’ response? _ “Very well. Would setting you on fire remedy the problem?” _

Hank laughed the hardest he ever had in his working life.

Incensed, Gavin’s eruption got them both pulled into the office, and this was the result - stuck with Deputy Robo-Dick, tossing bulleted barbs each other’s way until the tram arrived, and they parted ways.

Someone shoved against Gavin hard, and he gritted his teeth to somehow keep himself from igniting a fury to all hell on the rude _ motherfucker _ who didn’t even have the good grace to apologise.

No. One more discipline, and Gavin became an escalated case, the last thing he needed.

Thinking of of Jasmine’s gorgeous green eyes, and Bubbles’ absentminded whimsy, he kept his rage in check, reminding himself if he couldn’t do it for himself…

_ ‘Do it for them.’ _

He sighed sharply, pinching the bridge of his noise, and counting once more. Twenty might do the trick.

Resisting the urge to gawk over at the Android, whose unspoken presence practically radiated beside him, the moody man bit his lip, wondering what he had done in this life to deserve this living hell?

Connor? The Evidence Room? Hank already gave him enough flack and filthy looks for that to last lifetimes.

His only saving grace from being flat on his ass after his little stunt, which - in post-Revolution society - was HR’s worst nightmare, was to redeem himself by proving he was capable of working with an Android.

An Android the spitting image of the one he threatened to set on fire, and then tried to shoot.

Karma was a merciless Goddess in Detroit, 2039.

Sure, Gavin had protested, but Fowler - under no uncertain terms - told him to _ ‘deal with it or GTFO.’ _

Hank’s shot about ‘growing a pair’ while Connor pretended he wasn’t smiling didn’t help matters.

And the RK-900 known as Nines simply stared at him like an obscure puzzle waiting to be solved.

Gavin loathed the new arrangement with a searing passion. Why did the tin can just get lumped with Anderson since he loved Androids so much?

_ Fuck _ sake.

Gavin exhaled harshly, praying that all the mouthy assholes would blow away with it. Deciding that enough time had passed since his last stinging slight, he glared over, ready to let him have it.

“Hey, tin can. Think you can-”

Whatever Gavin had in mind to say trailed off, even as the city around him screamed with life and jovial energy. The first thing that caught the Detective’s attention was the burning red LED flashing intermittently against the side of Nine’s temple.

One, two.

One, two, three.

One, two.

Two.

The scariest thing was the Android’s face, calm as it always was (or the ‘no fuck’s to give’ default mode in Gavin’s opinion.) But the Detective himself knew enough about Androids from smartass Lieutenant Hank Anderson and his smarmy plastic boyfriend, Connor, to know better.

Red LED meant bad news.

All red LED and no respite makes Androids go kaboom or something like that.

Remembering that Android from interrogation on the floor made him edgy, especially if Nines… broke.

_ ‘Shit, shit, shit.’ _

The Android blinked rapidly, and Gavin panicked. This couldn’t happen, not in a crowd, not after being entrusted with him.

As much as he disliked the idea initially, Nines was still Gavin’s responsibility, and hastily, he snatched the Android’s hand.

He couldn’t let an Android break, not on his watch.

Not after just getting used to the quips, and one liners, and some who had the steel balls to give as good as he took.

The blinking stopped when Gavin squeezed Nines’ hand firmly, and he dragged him outside the crammed station, tucking into the nearest alleyway, and away from the overcrowded streets.

Speechless, Nines permitted himself to be spirited down the dreary depths of piss stained walls and overflowing trash cans.

As Gavin lamented the staggering high probability that he missed his ride home, he then became sick with impending fear of his Partner’s countdown to self-destruction, potentially taking him on a less cool sort of ride. A permanent one.

Did self-destructing Androids actually explode? Connor was quite adamant they did.

He gulped.

Once Gavin released Nines, he couldn’t take his curious look away from the flickering fiery ring on the Android’s head. In the tight darkness of the almost claustrophobic alleyway, the LED was almost eerie, foreboding a warning.

Realising that tact was needed for this delicate situation, Gavin leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and fixing the Android with an unreadable look. Nines, meanwhile, just stood there, staring unflinchingly at Gavin, but his LED was still distressed.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Gavin asked, trying to sound sincere. _ ‘Cause waiting a long ass time for the next bus thanks to a glitchy droid is not my idea of a good time,’ _ he wisely omitted.

The one thing Gavin began to notice between Connor and Nines was how different they were. Even if he pretended to not give a rat’s ass, Gavin was highly observant, his keen attention catching all the little evolved nuisances of Hank’s favourite pet.

The animated brown eyes in contrast to cool, calculating blue. A lively sassy nature against deadpan sarcasm. An Android that slowly revealed the big heart on his sleeve for his work Partner, with the other holding his cards strictly to his chest.

It never ceased to surprise Gavin how two Androids from the same RK lines presented so differently, like two brothers who could not have been any more different.

Much like him and his own brother.

Gavin wanted a tart reply, firmly cementing his assessment that Nine’s gave very little fucks about placating his hot tempered Partner, and reassuring him that nothing was truly amiss.

What he did not expect was for Nines to avoid contact, his steeled gaze obsessing over something distant, something intangible, and a static voice barely stringing a sentence together.

“...apologies… Detective… I...”

Aware that his affected vocal components were broadcasting loud and clear that something was definitely wrong, the RK-900 closed his eyes, blocking out the world - and Gavin.

A sharp scream and deafening cheers erupted from outside the alleyway, bouncing inside the tight space. As Gavin tutted, shooting a sharp stare at the meld of people forming a giant blob outside, his irritation was short lived when he returned his attention to Nines.

The Android smothered his ears with his large palms, keeping his eyes screwed shut.

For the first time, Nines appeared… vulnerable, like a frightened child.

Perturbed, Gavin uncrossed his arms and stepped away from the bricked wall, reaching a hand out warily. “Hey…”

Then a thought hit Gavin.

It had been Nines’ first day at the Fridge.

Could it be possible that the Android was struggling to deal with all the noise and sounds? Did Androids experience being overwhelmed as humans did?

_ ‘Nah,’ _ Gavin thought, eyes widening as he stepped forward, face finally softening. _ ‘A fancy piece of tech like him? Scared of a few people? There’s no way.’ _

That red ring, like a busted Xbox, stuck solid, and Gavin grew unsure.

“Hey,” the Detective repeated, striding over and trying to get a proper look. “You glitching, or something? Answer me.”

Still, the Android remained in complete sensory shutdown, not acknowledging his Partner at all.

Gavin’s patience wore thin.

Knowing he couldn’t force an Android’s arms away, Gavin did the only thing he thought to do, and prayed he wouldn’t regret this risky as fuck decision.

It worked with Hank and _ his _ robot, right?

A cautious hand fell upon Nines shoulder, and Gavin readied himself for an immediate slapdown. Or an explosion. Possibly both because it had been that kind of week.

As expected, Nines’ eyes shot open, and in a terrifying instant, Gavin saw the Android calculating his next action.

Preconstruction. That’s what Connor called it.

The pre-action branching of the mechanical mind, planning out possibilities and routes while measuring their percentage of success.

Which more than likely included punching Gavin in the face for getting in his space.

_ ‘Shit, whole life flashing before your eyes cliche? Real as fuck.’ _

However, something inside those reserved glacial eyes melted, reacting to the recognition of the tiny human he was assigned to. In an observing instant, Nines took in everything about Detective Reed.

The scar bridged across the human’s nose, the furrow of his brow, tight lips pursed together. His heart vitals thundering like a jackhammer inside his chest, and the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

But Nines was especially drawn to Gavin’s murky grey eyes. Usually obscured of clarity like an impenetrable fog, they were now muddled by an unreadable cloud and spreading out to the uneasy Android.

Nines disliked uncertainties and irregularities, but something about Gavin, his irritated little human, being so close, trying to assess him reminded him of Hank and Connor.

Whenever Hank closely approached his brother unit, Connor appreciated his Partner’s presence, comforting him if his relaxed signal readings were anything to go by.

Eventually, the LED melted to gold, and Nines ran another diagnostic to reveal that his signals were returning to normal.

**[Thirium pump. Stabilised.**

**Bio component [brain.] Lagging, but stabilised.**

**Bio component [lungs.] Stabilised.]**

“Ah.” Nines finally said, latching onto this grounding physical stimulus that was Gavin Reed. “Detective. It… appears my system experienced a momentary lapse.”

Relieved to hear that serious voice once more, Gavin allowed himself a thank-fuck-I’m-not-about-to-die smirk. “Bullshit. That was more than a hiccup, tin can.” He sighed, his expression growing serious. “You can say it, you know.”

A lilt of the head, Nines pondered. “Whatever is there to say, Detective?”

Gavin grunted. “How about ‘people suck, and crowds of the noisy fuckers suck more?’ You-” He hesitated, glaring at his Partner before saying what had been on his mind since the beginning of the episode. “You’ve never had a panic attack before… have you?”

Alertness strengthened Nines’ features, a flickering primrose ring circling thoughtfully. “I am an RK-900, Detective. CyberLife’s most advanced model, might I add. I do not experience ‘panic attacks.’ Those are attributed to humans, not Androids.”

Trying not to think of the many times Connor said something similar, Gavin snorted. “You sure? Sure as hell looked like one.”

Displeased by the human stubbornness, Nines settled into what Gavin described as his ‘resting bitch face,’ a classic. “The technical term, if anything, is sensory overload, a software status that can impact any android if subjected to too much data in a short space of time.”

“Panic attack,” Gavin repeated, rolling his eyes at his even more stubborn Android. “Funny ‘cause all the Androids I’ve seen kicking around here have been fine. Even big bro seems unphased by all the noise and shit.”

When Nines legitimately pouted, Gavin tried not to laugh, truly he did, but eventually his cackling echoed through the alley.

“I am touched you find my system trauma entertaining, Detective,” Nines sniffed, then he turned to make a head for the alleyway exit.

“Hey, hold on!” Gavin interceded him, holding his hands out in an attempt to stay the Android. “I get it! Kinda…”

Raising a single eyebrow, watching the man with cool eyes, Nines did not seem to embrace the idea.

“I’m serious,” Gavin continued. “Look, you know I hate idiots as it is, but The Fridge? Brings a city full of the fuckers, and I hate it. There’s too many people not giving two shits who they bump into, who they block, who they scream and shout and have full fucking War and Peace conversations with right next to you-”

As Gavin continued to rant, his increasingly hot voice breaking down every little thing he hated about Detroit in August, Nines listened carefully, processing his intentions with his limited social awareness software.

Normally, Gavin muttered something derogatory, then stormed off, not bothering about the Android. This present display of stomping and screaming all his grievances _ for _ him was entirely new.

Nines kept repeating Gavin’s words inside his Memory Bank._ ‘I get it. I get it. I get it.’ _

Unsure of _ what _ exactly Detective Reed ‘got,’ Nines accessed his software for comparison, and was directed to a video file from several weeks ago. In a crackle of life, a clip came before him.

_ Of Connor sitting on his Partner’s desk, clearly agitated about a new android hate crime case, and Hank sitting in his own chair, gazing up at him. Nines watched curiously from beside Gavin’s desk, trying not to file a complaint that his Partner was idly tapping on his phone, and he became drawn by the voice of his brother unit. _

_ After a heated discussion, about how unfair and disheartening it was that androids were still persecuted, Connor sighed, clasping his hands together, returning his sheepish brown eyes to Hank. “...My apologies, Lieutenant. I do not know what came over me.” _

_ “Hey, hey,” Hank affirmed, placing a hand in Connor’s knee. “You don’t need to say sorry. I get it.” _

_ The RK-800 regarded Hank fondly, appreciating the comforting gesture. _

_ He smiled. “Thanks… Hank.” _

Back to reality, Nines blinked, his LED restored to blue.

**[Analysis complete. Detective Reed is attempting, albeit rather poorly, to offer reassurances and understanding.**

**Update. Detective Reed has perhaps grown accustomed to my presence, and seeks to placate any concerns he believes I might have.]**

Captivated by the enraged man thrusting his finger at the shadows passing the alleyway, taking in the tensed shoulders and contracted pupils whenever Gavin glanced his way, Nines came to another conclusion.

**[Additional Update. Detective Reed might be suffering from undiagnosed anxiety and temperament related to stressful social situations.]**

Before Gavin elaborated further on the shitty state of affairs in Detroit, Nines took the initiative. Something twinkled in his cool, calculating eyes when he caught the Detective off guard with a tight curl of the lips.

Gavin stopped immediately.

“They are annoying,” Nines admitted, and was rewarded with a conspiratory smirk.

Nines decided that Gavin’s approval was satisfactory… for now.

“Wanna blow this joint? Reeks of piss.”

“As you wish, Detective.”

xxx

Returning to the station, Gavin and Nines awaited the long, dreary countdown until the next tram came.

While Gavin was still far from pleased, his shared knowing glances with Nines gave him a strange sense of solidarity.

That is until the enduring overwhelming activity began to get to Nines once more.

**[Warning: Sensory overload. Please isolate assessed harm to stabilise system.]**

Once more, his LED throbbed with violent red, unsure of how to calm his body down when _ everything _ was a problem.

Suddenly, Nines felt something soft being placed inside one ear, then the other. Gavin gave him a steady look, tapping his own ears, and explaining in that impatient manner he did.

“Earphones,” the Detective said, almost amused by the click of confusion upon the Android’s face. “What I use to block out the shitheads.”

“I see.”

Then the sound flooded his system, blocking out the noise pollution and frantic energy with something surprisingly… _ gentle _, unlike the Detective he came to know.

_ Clair De Lune? _A classic piano piece.

**[It seems Detective Reed is full of surprises,]** Nines updated with a softened smile.

As the elegant melody drifted through his audio processors, his entire body felt calm. To contrast Gavin’s burning red intensity was a serene sapphire wave through music that washed across him, leaving him passive and peaceful.

Isolated in a musical landscape, away from the sharp razored reality was a smooth, song like realm that existed just for him. It was impossible not to think of red roses in bloom and tender hands preening the silk petals in his mind.

And Gavin stood, enduring everything that had once plagued them both, only to realise - upon the sight of Nines with his eyes closed and LED perfect blue - that maybe, just maybe, everything _ wasn’t _ complete shit.

Before long, another tram pulled into the shelter, and Gavin sighed with relief. Finally, he could get home to his cats and away from the crowded heart of the city.

As the doors slid open, beckoning the Detective inside, Gavin frowned. _ ‘Packed like sardines, big surprise.’ _

As he took a step towards the mouth of the vehicle, growling at anyone that tried to jump queue, Gavin turned back to Nines, still in melodic bliss.

With _ his _ bloody earphones.

He tutted, snatching the Android’s hand for the second time that night, and yanking him onto the bus with him like an impatient mother and her clueless child.

That opened Nines’ eyes.

Even though his ears were preoccupied with music, he processed the touch properly this time. Gavin’s warm hand never broke away, even when fishing out his card to pay for travel, and even when he navigated towards the minuscule space right in the corner.

Meaning Nines would be practically all up in his business the entire ride home.

“You wish me to accompany you, Detective Reed?”

Gavin clicked his tongue against his cheek, retrieving his hand and shoving it inside his pocket. “Well, I couldn’t have you standing there all night, freaking out, could I? Or Fowler and Hank’s little toy boy wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.”

The RK-900 stared at Gavin contemplatively, swimming in the soft, exquisite playing of a seasoned pianist. As Gavin’s awkward glare bounced back at him from the star speckled window, face warm, his heartbeat and blood pressure troubled, Nines read the signs and accessed his own virtual file on the Detective, amending his personal assessments.

<strike> **[Detective Reed has perhaps grown accustomed to my presence, and seeks to placate any concerns he believes I might have.** </strike>

**Update. Gavin is, without a doubt, grown accustomed to my presence in a manner beyond workplace relations.]**

“My lips are sealed, Detective Reed,” Nines answered with a nod. “Though I would appreciate you cease mocking Connor 51. He is my brother unit.”

Still averting his eyes, Gavin smirked. “Whatever, toaster...”

Even as the bus became less cluttered with people the further out they went, Gavin never used the opportunity to create distance, and Nines stayed close, drifting to the classical music that his Partner provided_ . _

His cats were getting a new friend tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so major disclaimer out the way. Yes, this is the Detroit equivalent of Scotland’s Fringe Festival, which can be a very overwhelming experience. There is some fun things on during it, but like Nines, I often become very overwhelmed by the noise and energy and people that I suffer sensory overload, and I crash more or less.
> 
> Nines is close to how I experience social anxiety and intense public surroundings, whereas Gavin was much closer to how my girlfriend experiences it (given she actually works in the city, and deals with it every day.)
> 
> This was the first time I wrote Gavin and Nines, and initially, I considered writing it from Hank and Connor’s perspective. Gavin and Nines were in mind for Clockwork Contradictions, but I decided to try something a little out of my comfort zone, and I could imagine Gavin raging royally in this situation. I hope I did okay in my first writing of their dynamic.
> 
> I wanted to write Gavin as someone who is clearly still defensive about being around Androids, but this is the turning point to his relationship with Nines. And Nines is a cooler Android with difficulties regarding emotions, but is a master at the deadpan sass. He kind of has to be with Gavin as his Partner.
> 
> Fun little fact. Gavin’s cats’ names - Jasmine and Bubbles - we’re named after my two cats pre-adoption. That was their original names before we changed them post-adoption to Adachi and Yosuke. Adachi does indeed have green eyes and is a little panther kitty, whereas Yosuke has amber eyes and is a ginger tabby.
> 
> Gavin listening to classical music was a last minute touch, but I freaking love piano music and Clair De Lune is one of my favourites. I do listen to music on the go to help with being overwhelmed by too much senses.
> 
> It’s also funny that I seem incapable to writing DBH with other characters without resisting the urge to mention Hank and Connor, so oops?
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. 💙


End file.
